


I Could Plow Your Driveway (cough cough dies)

by razz



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Food Porn, M/M, Run-On Sentences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:52:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/razz/pseuds/razz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney mutters darkly to himself as he huffs and puffs and pushes futily at the snow that's accumulated on Jeannie's driveway. He hates snow and the atrocious neighbors! </p><p>Those bastards; who'd thoughtfully plowed their own walks right up to their property boundary and no further, when they knew that Jeannie was bigger than a balloon and had no husband coming to do it, and Rodney had a bad back damn it! <i>And</i> their brat kids had turned up their noses when he'd offered to pay them to do it. Even when he'd sweetened the deal to $5 <i>a piece</i>, instead of collectively.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Could Plow Your Driveway (cough cough dies)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this sometime just after Christmas. I was shoveling my parent's driveway and it just happened from there.

Rodney mutters darkly to himself as he huffs and puffs and pushes futily at the snow that's accumulated on Jeannie's driveway. He hates snow and the atrocious neighbors! 

Those bastards; who'd thoughtfully plowed their own walks right up to their property boundary and no further, when they knew that Jeannie was bigger than a balloon and had no husband coming to do it, and Rodney had a bad back damn it! _And_ their brat kids had turned up their noses when he'd offered to pay them to do it. Even when he'd sweetened the deal to $5 _a piece_ , instead of collectively.

Suddenly, the whirr of a snow blower turns into a wall of snow, covering Rodney from head to toe. He squeaks and drops the shovel.

"Hey, whoops." The words are slow and not nearly as apologetic as they should be. Rodney suspects the speaker is laughing inside. "I was just wondering if you'd like me to finish plowing your drive for you?"

Rodney splutters, caught between outrage and the desire not to make this public menace take back his offer.

"Look, it's a two seater, you can ride up with me and make sure I don't make off with your lawn gnomes or something."

He finally compromises; "I suppose it's the least you can do, after exposing me to the dangers of hypothermia." He sits gingerly on the second seat. The man has all black snow gear and a neck gator pulled over the lower half of his face, all Rodney can see are his bright hazel eyes surrounded by little crinkly smile lines.

The guy makes a sound that might be a muffled snort but could also be an attempt at curbing a runny nose. Rodney decides to ignore it. He's feeling kinda out of it, between the warmth radiating from the heated seat and the man beside him.

The drive and the walk are cleared in record time. The machine is a dream. Rodney decides, then and there, to invest in one. He wobbles a bit when he gets off, and the man catches his arm in a steady grip.

"Woah there, are you okay?" His hazel eyes are very close. Rodney likes the flecks he can pick out.

"Hypoglycemia," Rodney says stupidly. "That is - I'm going inside now." He makes it all the way to the garage door, before he realizes the man hasn't let go. He blinks dazedly at him.

"I think I'll make sure you're all right, if you don't mind." His eyes are still crinkly around the corners, but there's also a worried line between his eyebrows.

"Oh." Rodney blinks again then just opens the door. Jeannie is inside, on the swivel chair by the counter, and she jumps up when she sees them. Rodney's helper stops to stare at her.

"Mer! What's wrong?" He doesn't stop just blunders over to the counter. His hands are shaking, but he manages the lid to the cookie jar and stuffs two in his mouth. Jeannie relaxes.

"Really, Meredith, what were you thinking? I thought you said you'd eaten today! Thanks for bringing him in, he's hopeless." Rodney rolls his eyes.

"I have eaten today. We had turkey pot pies together, remember?"

"Meredith," he really wishes she wouldn't draw his name out that way. She already reminds him of their mother. "That was the middle of the night! Around ten hours ago."

Rodney realizes the guy is just inside the door, glancing between the two of them and appearing two seconds away from ducking back out the door. He waves him in while rummaging up a few power bars and chowing them as well. "Take off your coat. You might as well warm up before you continue your quest to drench unsuspecting neighbors with snow. I suggest that shrew next door or her little monsters. This is Jeannie by the way."

"Um, John. Nice to meet you." He says, but makes no move away from the door. Rodney rolls his eyes, privately marking down his estimation of the man from average, to not very bright. Or possibly afraid of pregnant women. Rodney really can't blame him if that's the case. Oh well, food first, other considerations later.

"Jeannie do we have any turkey left?" He asks with his head in the fridge, over his shoulder he asks, "want a sandwich?" John is looking steadily at the floor.

"Turkey?" He darts a glance at Rodney. Incidentally, it makes it seem like he's trying not to check out Rodney's ass, "I like turkey." Rodney checks one point in 'the dimmer than a box of rocks' column.

Jeannie ignores him, she's gone back to her knitting, Rodney _very_ privately thinks she's in a nesting phase, but he's smart enough not to comment on anything related to the thing growing inside her. Screaming fights are bad for her health, or so he assumes. Maybe they only make her stronger.

He pulls out avocados, an egg, olive oil, salt, some garlic cloves, and the bread he got at the deli the day before, and finally locates the turkey from christmas. He spots the bacon next to it, so he snags both.

Jeannie's head snaps up like a blood hound as he starts the bacon frying. "That's disgusting, Mer," she states flatly - as if he hadn't caught her putting some on top of her pineapple-butterfingers ice cream around 1 a.m. the night before. She ruins the effect by adding, "Make mine extra crispy."

"Oh, I'm sorry miss quasi-vegan," he starts crushing the garlic, "will you be joining us in our meaty sandwich goodness?" He hears another muffled snort (he's sure this time.) "Oh, shut up, John. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"I wasn't-!" Rodney can't help but snicker at the panic in his reaction.

"Mer!" Jeannie growls, "don't scare our guest, most of the neighbors hate me already!"

"Well, you should have looked into the area better, I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so."

Jeannie goes pink but unfortunately, instead of yelling, takes a turn towards tears: Her eyes water and her mouth wobbles. Rodney exchanges an alarmed glance with John over the bowl of aioli he's mixing.

"Er, no, but John, here, has only just met you, and he doesn't hate you. Right John?"

"Right." Says John solidly, Rodney might have to take off a mark by the rocks column, "We're practically friends already. In fact, you should come to dinner tonight and meet Teyla. She just had her son, Torren, a month ago, and she's been wishing for another mother to chat with." Okay, he's maybe a bit of a charmer.

Jeannie looks up hopefully, "Is she nice?"

"Of course, she's nice," Rodney interrupts, "why would he want you to meet her, if he thought she'd make you cry like Mrs. Marrow next door."

"Teyla's one of the best people I know. She and Ronon both are. They're looking at the house across from you."

Jeannie who was looking happier, starts with the mouth wibbling again, "But what would they think of an unwed mother? Everyone here thinks I'm a whore!" She runs out of the room with her knitting clutched protectively to her chest.

John and Rodney stare after her for a moment, before Rodney realizes the bacon is done. He slides it onto a plate and fumbles with the avocados to start assembling the sandwiches.

"Shouldn't you…um."

"If I go in there now, she'll probably unman me with a knitting needle." Rodney decides. "No, she'll be ok. She isn't usually like this. It's just the neighbors on either side of this place. She actually did a check on the area before she bought it, and there were no red flags at the time. I didn't even find anything."

"Uh, yeah, we have a reputation for being pretty liberal here." John rubs at the back of his neck with a gloved hand. The gesture looks fruitless through all those layers. "The Marrow-Pines throw off our curve though. You came at a bad time. Half the area's families are out of town visiting relatives, so the Marrow-Pines are in majority during the holidays. Ignore 'em, we've made it very clear to them that hate crimes will not be tolerated."

"Oh god, I hadn't even considered that!" Rodney feels another batch of the shakes coming on.

"No, I mean it. We have a zero tolerance policy for anything that even sounds like discrimination. The mayor, Elizabeth, lives two houses down from me, and she's very protective of the residents."

"Huh." Rodney knows the mayor lives in the area, but he hasn't given it much thought. He finishes making the sandwiches and slides a plate to John with a flourish.

John gives his sandwich an adoring look and finally pulls down his neck gaiter. He has a really handsome face, Rodney realizes with a start. He watches in dawning attraction, as John strips his hat, gloves, and coat in quick succession. The turtle neck underneath is shrink-wrapped to defined muscles, and his messy hair looks sexy as hell. To make matters worse, when he tries Rodney's sandwich he looks like he's having an epiphany. "This is great!" Even speaking around a mouthful of sandwich he manages to look good…and that appreciative look he's throwing Rodney's way, is dangerous for his sanity. 

Rodney distracts himself by stuffing his own sandwich in his mouth. "Mmm, oh yes, god I'm good." He mumbles, as the perfect balance of flavors and textures explode across his tongue; the salty bacon, the creamy avacado and aioli, the herbs in the crust of the bread and the moist turkey. Rodney moans again and licks his fingers. John mumbles his agreement. He's a bit flushed when Rodney glances over. Rodney blushes. He ducks his head and stands to grab them some sodas.

"Agave Strawberry Rhubarb?" John reads with a raised eyebrow.

"It's all Jeannie will drink," Rodney snaps defensively. "I swear she has a lifetime supply here, and it's actually decent. When Jeannie and I were little, our father went through a granola health kick, and Jeannie's never grown out of it."

John's focus snaps back to him as he smiles suddenly. The full charm is back, but it's more distracting when Rodney is the receiver of it all. "So, Meredith," he drawls, "are you just visiting _your sister_ , Jeannie, for the holidays? Or are you planning on living here too?"

"Wuh, I, what! I mean, don't call me Meredith! Introductions slipped my mind earlier, what with the attack of low blood-sugar and," he waves his arms for emphasis, "but I go by Rodney." He puffs out his chest, "Dr. Rodney McKay."

John's eyebrows go up. Impossibly, the sexy vibes rolling off of him get stronger. "Not the astrophysicist," John practically purrs.

"Ye-es?" Rodney feels like he should be able to expect this sort of reaction, but it's never once happened before. He's almost positive John is flirting with him. "I am." What else should he say? "Oh! I'm staying with Jeannie as long as she needs me to. She's quite capable, you understand, but for her to afford the house and keep on track with her education, we decided I'd pitch in until everything seems more stable."

"Great," John licks his lips, "I'm looking forward to seeing more of you, Rodney." He draws his name out and makes it sound a little filthy. Rodney tries not to swallow his tongue.

"Yes, me too."

John's licking his fingers now and Rodney's pretty sure his brain has melted out of his ears. He belatedly struggles out of his own jacket. "It's pretty warm in here, isn't it?" He asks as John finishes the last of his sandwich and licks smirking lips again.

"Oh yeah, I'm all warmed up. Hot in fact." John cannot be serious, Rodney thinks. "Thanks for the sandwich, Rodney, please say you'll come to dinner tonight. It'll be the _least_ I can do to return the favor." The way he waggles his eyebrows on the word 'least' make Rodney's brain go to really inappropriate places.

"Yes, I think that's - er a really good idea. Really."

 

* * *

 

Teyla and Jeannie hit it off like a house on fire, and Rodney tells himself they're too distracted to notice John tugging him off for a 'tour' of his ridiculously huge house.

"This is my bedroom." John mumbles between kisses.

"Oh, yes, very nice." Rodney's eyes are closed.

"This is my bedroom door." John pushes him up against the inside of it, pawing at his belt.

"Mmm," hums Rodney, "good craftsma- ohhh," he cuts off when John slides to his knees, tugging Rodney's khakis down with him.

John's hair is messy and perfect under his fingers. A question pops into his mind, "Wait, wait, how did you know I was an astrophysicist earlier?"

John pulls back with a disbelieving sound. "Right now? You want to know _right now_ , Rodney?" He doesn't really sound put out though, if anything, he sounds fond. "M. Rodney McKay. I read a lot of your publications when I was studying for my own dissertation and I've kept up with your work, since it really runs simpatico with my own research into zero-point energy. And we've been emailing since you reviewed my article about the theoretical math for a series of connected singularities that could be created for near instantaneous travel."

"Oh fuck," Rodney clamps down and keeps himself from ejaculating with all of his will.

"Did you just dry orgasm?" John asks with blown pupils.

"Sheppard?" Rodney asks, "John Sheppard? I thought you lived in the U.S. Your email! And your lab!" He sputters.

"I mostly work from home, fly over for supervision meetings once a month." He grabs at Rodney's pants and manages to force Rodney the rest of the way out of them. "Can I interest you in a tour of my bed, Dr. McKay?"

 

* * *

Old Emails:

\----------------------

Dear Dr. Sheppard,

I'm sorry, I don't think it would work. Long distance is not something I'd like to try. I have the utmost respect for you as a person, but more importantly as a scientist. I think you know how rare that is. Therefore, it's best to keep things professional between us.

\----------------------

Come on, Rodney, I could come visit you. It's no problem.

\----------------------

John, I'm sorry. It just wouldn't work.

\----------------------

They haven't discussed it for more than a year.

  
 

* * *

They're still arguing back and forth about the math from Rodney's last article when they go back downstairs. Teyla looks knowing, but Jeannie is quickly drawn into the discussion, and he dares to hope she doesn't notice the grins they can't stop shooting at each other.

**Author's Note:**

> On snowy walks: My parent's neighbors are nothing like this, btw...but they do snow blow their walks right up to their property lines. I miss the guy who rode around doing everyone's walks and waving at all the neighbors. Don't you think John would just be unhealthily in love with his snow blower? (I couldn't actually find a two-seater, but they should totally exist. Also, I decided John's should have heated seats. Clearly, I've never owned one.)
> 
> On Jeannie's food choices: I haven't actually tried bacon on pineapple ice cream, or Oogava soda, but it was my best guess for a soda pregnant women can drink. And the Internet informs me that pineapple is okay to eat, as long as you don't eat the cores. I kind of want to try them both now…
> 
> On Rodney's food choices: Oh yeah, that sandwich is the best! And obviously Rodney's homemade aioli wouldn't have any citrus. And you know John was about to propose marriage after that sandwich, even before he found out who Rodney was.
> 
> On John's theoretical math: Come on, he'd be amazing, and he and Rodney would be taking the world by storm, through science. Also, I have no idea what I'm talking about, so this was fudged from key techno-babble from various SG-1 and SGA episodes.


End file.
